Through the Darkness
by Morganeth Taren'drel
Summary: A hunt gone wrong forces Dean to rely on his brother, and look at the world in a whole new way. He doesn't like what he sees.
1. Through the Darkness

**AN**: I've been trying to write this story for ages now, had a lot written on it but I just couldn't keep it moving so I thought what if I do it as a series of shorts, would that make it any easier. I think it will, so here's the first part. I hope you enjoy!

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters of Supernatural

**Through the Darkness**

All he could see was a sheet of glaring white, it burned even after Dean had clamped his eyes shut. He was hardly aware of anything beyond the pain in the roar in his ears, he couldn't tell if he was sitting, standing, or lying down. Dean thought he had been standing in the basement of an abandoned warehouse, but all he knew was darkness.

"Dean!" Sam's voice broke through the haze, and he could feel his brother's hand pressed tightly to his forehead.

"What the hell happened?" the older Winchester coughed, realizing now that he was lying down on the cold concrete.

"Umm...It exploded," Sam said, sounding incredulous.

"It exploded," Dean repeated blinking his eyes, trying to clear the darkness, "I didn't know they could do that, are you alright?"

He heard Sam chuckle, "I'm fine, you shielded me. As always," he added sarcastically.

Dean smirked, but winced when he made to sit up his head pounding, "Did the explosion kill the lights?" he asked trying to look through the darkness.

"No," Sam spoke tone concerned.

The hunter pushed himself up to a sitting position, his sudden movement pushing Sam away; and as he strained to see the room Dean could feel warm blood begin trailing down the side of his face. "I can't see..." he said stunned.

Sam didn't waist a second, "C'mon we need to get you to the hospital," his arm snaked around Dean's back reading to help his brother up.

"What's the point?" Dean barked angrily, making no effort to help his brother.

"Dean you have a concussion," Sam attempted to reason.

"I'm blind," he stated again angrily, his mind unwilling to truly process what that meant; but he was more than willing to get angry about it.

"It might not be permanent, have you considered that?"

No he hadn't, he'd only just realized that he couldn't see, and sight was a sense he'd always made the most of.

"Hold this to your head," Sam said pressing a piece of material into Dean's right hand, before guiding his hand to what felt like a gash running along his temple.

Dean tried to get to his feet with as little help from Sam as possible, but he couldn't seem to find his balance. And before long Dean's left arm was over Sam's shoulder, his brother helping to guide him to the exit.

He didn't want the silence, didn't want to consider just how fucked up his life would be now that he was blind. But at the same time he didn't want the conversation, didn't want to hear hollow reassurances from his younger brother that everything would be fine. It was a no win situation, the only thing he could do, for the ride to the hospital was loose himself in his music, despite his pounding head.

Thanks for Reading!

Morganeth Taren'drel


	2. Through the Darkness 2

**AN**: I'd love to know how people feel about this set up the short chapters I've never been a fan of short chaptered stories. But what I'm trying to do hear is make each of the chapters almost a One-shot that could stand on its own. Of course I want to keep them connected it's all very much the same story. It just feels really different to me and I wondered what everyone else thought. As always I hope you enjoy this chapter!

I realized that the length of chapters if going to vary quite a bit, I don't know how long any one could get but I do know there will be some that are shorter. More like my version of a drabble. I hope you'll enjoy this story.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural

**Through the Darkness 2**

Dean had sat waiting in crowded emergency rooms before, depending on the severity of the injury they usually searched for a quiet clinic. At the moment Dean was seriously wishing Sam had found that quiet clinic even if concussions always warranted a trip to the ER. His brother sat shoulder to shoulder with him, a hand still pressed to Dean's temple, although the pressure had let up a little.

At any other time the contact would have been unwelcome, just Sammy worrying too much again. But now, in this noisy invisible room, it was an anchor telling him, his brother was on guard. He didn't expect any demon attacks in the ER, but unable to see, any noise became unfamiliar, threatening. Sam was the constant. There was only so much his brother could do, Dean fought to keep himself from flinching at ever sound close to him. But he felt completely defenseless.

"Mr. Acklen?" a male voice called out over the din, and Sam moved suddenly beside him.

"That's you," he said, getting to his feet helping Dean along with him.

Dean stiffened, "Obviously," he bit out sarcastically.

He hated walking when he couldn't see, Dean fully trusted his brother not to walk him into anything, but he couldn't quiet make his limbs believe that. He wanted to be able to stride confidently beside Sam, not shuffle carefully. That made it too obvious that he was blind, a weakness he didn't want to telegraph.

"If you just take a seat right here the doctor will be with you shortly," the nurse instructed.

Dean had no idea where 'here' was but he'd been though enough hospitals to have a mental image of the curtained off bed. Sam led him to the edge, and with careful hands guiding him Dean sat down this time his back to nothing but a flimsy plastic sheet.

"How're you feeling?" Sam asked his hand pulling the bloodied gauze away from Dean's temple.

-_Like I'm out of the game_- he thought bitterly, and thankfully was saved from having to answer, when the doctor appeared.

"I'm Dr. Kallum, what happened here?" this time the voice was feminine, smooth and to Dean's ears attractive.

Sam spoke up immediately, "There was a flash explosion with our heater." Not even remotely close to the truth, but it was the best they had. Dean felt an unfamiliar hand touch his wrist, and before he could even think his body reacted. Sam must have been fast on his feet to get the doctor out of the way. "He can't see," his brother stressed.

"Is he always this jumpy?" she asked voice sounding a touch breathless.

"He was blinded in the accident," Sam clarified.

"He's blind, not deaf," Dean growled, "Just warn me before you do anything."

There was a moment of awkward silence, "Of course I'm sorry," Dr Kallum said clearly directing her response to Dean. "I'm going to take a quick look at the gash on your head."

He felt Sam step away and for a second his body panicked before he felt Sam's hand brush against left side. Dean felt humiliated to need this reassurance. But he chose not to fight the problem merely accept it, for now. He could deal with all of it later. His attention was quickly drawn outward again when he felt the doctor's hands touch his skin. The one seemed to be probing at his temple while the other rested on his neck just under his chin.

"It's all but stopped bleeding," she commented sounding a little distracted, "But it'll still need stitches. Also you're hearts racing," she paused, one hand still on his neck. "I'd like to give you a sedative, help calm you down."

Dean was shaking his head despite the pain when Sam's hand came to rest of his shoulder squeezing it reassuringly. "Nothing too strong Dean, just enough to help you relax, you're really strung out."

"That's because I can't see!" Dean vented through clenched teeth.

"We're going to check you out," the doctor assured, "I just really need you to calm down first, alright?" The fact that she left it a question, the ultimate choice up to Dean, helped a little as did Sam's continued presence. He nodded his head wincing when it felt like his brain shook inside.

Without a word Dean began shrugging out of his leather jacket, his temper rising when he felt hands trying to help him. Throwing his arms aside Dean stopped, "I don't need help!" He knew it wasn't true but at least for this, Dean could take of his own coat and denim shirt on his own.

"Just take it easy," Dr Kallum attempted to sooth, "We're only trying to help." Dean had to fight the need to sigh, he didn't want to be coddled, he'd be getting enough of that from Sammy. "Can I have your right arm?" she asked hands taking hold of it just a second after. Dean felt her swipe a damp cotton ball across the inside of his elbow a moment before a needle pricked his skin.

Dean could feel it start to work almost immediately a slow rush coming over his aching head. It did nothing to relax his muscles he was too on edge for that but he could feel the rush of his blood begin to ease.

"Alright Dean I need to check your vitals," Dr Kallum informed.

"Forget that!" Dean snapped, "What about my eyes!" Sam's hands were restraining on his shoulders.

"I need to follow procedure," was the text book reply. "I'm sorry." She added, "I know this must be frightening for you, but we're going to do everything we can for you."

The hunter's shoulders slumped in defeat, there was no avoiding this. She couldn't immediately tell him if this blindness was permanent or not. Dean shut his eyes, though it made no difference, he felt the continued presence of Sam's hand on his shoulder as the doctor began her exam.

Thanks for Reading!

Morganeth Taren'drel


	3. Through the Darkness 3

**AN**: This was a difficult chapter for me to write, I'm not at all sure why. But I don't know what I think about it. Still I really enjoy sharing these chapters with all of you, so I will leave the final decision up to you enjoy! -_I hope!_-

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural

**Through the Darkness 3**

It was a surreal feeling to be blind but feel the room spin around you. Dean wondered at the strength of sedative he'd actually been given but knew this could just as easily be the concussion at work too. His eyes were closed, it had just felt like too much effort to keep the opened, not that it matter either way.

Dean's growing frustration was becoming more of a problem, both from the head wound and the fact that he had no real concept of time, short of asking Sam every two minutes. He wanted to rub at his eyes in the hope of clearing them, but every time his hands came near his face Sam reached out and stopped him. He was no longer paying attention to the reasons, he didn't care about any of that, he just wanted to see.

"You still with us Dean?" a low voice asked, it was accompanied by the soft squeak of wheels across the tile floor as the doctor adjusted his position for what had to be the fiftieth time. Dean moved to nod his head, not feeling much like talking, and felt the pull of the stitches the doctor was putting into place. The clink of metal followed by the touch of a gloved hand on his face quickly steadied his head. "Almost done," the male voice assured.

Dean didn't even know the man's name. Hadn't cared to pay attention when he'd walked in, he'd left that all to Sam; his brother had his back, at every turn. The scrap of metal on metal drew Dean's wandering attention, it had been brief, but in his mind could be so many thing it just wasn't clear. Nothing was, not without his sight. How could he be a hunter without his sight? He couldn't protect his brother, the roles were reversing.

Dean pushed the thoughts away, trying instead to focus on what he could hear and feel. The smooth warm rubber covered fingers slid across his temple pressing a bandage over what must have been a neat row of stitches. "Alright Dean can I get you to sit up?" the doctor asked and the wheels of his stool rolled across the floor.

Pushing himself up, Dean felt his head begin to swim, but didn't miss Sam's 'helping' hands. The mattress shifted under him the exam tables cover crinkling loudly. There was the sound of the stool moving again, this time closer to him right between his knees. "I'm going to take a look at your eyes," the doctor's voice explained while his hands touched either side of Dean's head.

He resisted at first, not wanting to be pulled in any direction. Dean reached out with his hands at first to push the doctor away, but when his fingers collided with metal and plastic he stopped. He couldn't be sure what it was by touching it, but he knew now it wasn't the doctor directly in front of him. Trembling fingers slid across as spot that felt like it was meant for his chin, and Dean could picture the device. He dropped his head into place, relieved they were finally dealing with his biggest problem.

"Dean can you turn your eyes to your right?" the doctor asked, and the request sounded weird to Dean's ears even as he did it.

There was silence in the room, and he felt Sam's presence beside him. It left Dean wondering when his brother had moved.

"Good, now to your left."

Dean obliged though all he wanted was sleep, still the answer to the question of his eyes was enough to fight off exhaustion and a concussion. He wondered if the word 'Good' was a positive sign, or had the doctor merely said it out of habit?

"Well Dean I have good news and bad news," the doctor began, but that was about all Dean's mind was willing to process. There was too much terminology for his concussed brain to handle; he did catch "One week..." as well as, "Possibly temporary." Neither were enough to hold onto. The doctor wrapped his eyes in what felt like gauze, why? Dean wasn't entirely sure. After a while Dean got the sense the doctor was simply directing his attention to Sam, answering the seemingly unending stream of questions.

The older Winchester did snap back to attention when his ears caught, "We'll keep him over night for observation."

"I'm not staying," he spoke up finally working to make his voice as firm as possible.

"Dean--" Sam began.

"Bring me the forms, I want to go home," he sounded like a child, but didn't care.

The silence that followed was awkward, it left Dean time to think -_What home?-_ another cookie cutter hotel? Some out of the way dump? They'd been calling places like that 'home' for just about all their lives. But the most important thing about those rooms was Sam; he needed his brother to have his back.

Thanks for Reading!

Morganeth Taren'drel


	4. Through the Darkness 4

**PLEASE READ AN**: I feel I should clarify my idea behind this story. Each 'Chapter' which may seem short and or be random lengths, but each is just one scene in the story. I wanted to try writing something where I cut out all the in between, which is what was causing me problems the first time I wrote the story.

If anyone is interested to see what I originally wrote I'd be more than happy to share it with you. I have high hopes that with this new method I'll be able to finish this story. And I hope it will still be enjoyable to all of you.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural

**Through the Darkness 4**

Dean sat on the edge of the motel bed, hands clenched tightly around his Glock, seething with frustration, anger and humiliation. The motel room door had slammed behind his brother's back not two minutes ago. He'd gone out to get breakfast, and some much needed air.

Dean had seen this coming, and that thought alone was enough to make him laugh brokenly. Sam was the optimist in this case he believed that the blindness was temporary. In a weeks time Dean would be back to normal, but until then Sam was trying to help him with every little thing. Every time Dean moved Sam was there, either wrapping an arm around him or just hovering. Dean was too independent for this.

He popped the magazine from his gun-the sound sharp to his ears-then slammed it back in. It was all a mess; he couldn't stand to have Sam helping with every little thing. But the minute Sam was out the door Dean had reached for his gun, feeling far too vulnerable without his sight.

Ejecting the mag again, Dean listened to the familiar sound, calloused fingers running down the side of the barrel. Unfortunately the gun didn't offer much comfort, nothing would.

Back in Black began to play, the music sounding muffled as it came out of Dean's jean pocket. Placing the Glock on his bed Dean tried to remember where he'd left his jeans as he slid down the bed. He groped blindly grateful for the moment that Sam wasn't here to guide his hand. Finally he gripped the waist band and pulled out the phone.

"Hello," he sighed dropping his head into his free hand.

"Dean, its Bobby."

Dean wasn't surprised to hear the older hunter's voice, "What can I do for you Bobby?" he asked forcing a light tone into his voice not wanting to cause questions.

"Where are you boys?" he asked.

"Just outside New York," Dean replied laying back on his bed. Sam had tried to fight him for it, insisting Dean needed to be closer to the bathroom. That had been too much for Dean's pride to take. "We just finished up a hunt, what's up?"

"Found a nest of vamps inside Yellowstone."

That raised an eyebrow for Dean, "Been nipping some campers have they?"

"There's only been a couple of deaths," Bobby commented, "They've all been written off as animal attacks, wolves, bears, the part doesn't really care."

"What about suspicious circumstances?" Dean asked, free hand briskly running across the top of his head.

"Nothing to raise any alarms."

The thought of hunting some vamps, was just about enough to over come his distaste for camping. For a brief moment he could see himself taking part in the hunt, killing vampires was never a dull job. But as his hand reached to massage his forehead, Dean stopped fingers touching the gauze that covered his eyes. And reality came crashing back down, it surprised him that he'd being able to forget if only for a moment that he was useless and would be a hindrance on this hunt.

Dean fought the urge to sigh, before forcing himself to ask, "Where are you right now?"

"In Gardiner, I'm trying to narrow down our field of search," Bobby replied.

"I see a lot of hiking in our future," he allowed his sigh to slip through now, knowing Bobby wouldn't suspect anything.

Bobby chuckled at Dean's reluctance, "I'll see you boys in a couple of days."

The click of Bobby shutting off his cell followed a second after, and Dean pulled the phone away from his ear bringing it before his eyes. For a brief second Dean tried to open his eyes. His frustration was overwhelming, as he threw the small device across the room.

"Who are you trying to call?"

Dean jumped, body lunging him to his feet before he really had time to think, "Damnit Sam don't do that!" he growled dropping down onto the edge of his bed, head spinning painfully.

"Sorry," Sam apologized as he stepped further into the room. Dean listened for the sound of the door locking behind his brother.

Remembering his gun Dean reached behind him, to try and cover the weapon with the sheets. He didn't know if Sam saw it, but Dean hoped he hadn't. It was a sign of weakness, how many more would he have show before this was over?

He listened as Sam moved about the motel room, a plastic bag crinkled as Sam put it on the table. "Bobby called?" Dean nodded mutely, regretting letting his anger get the better of him. "What did he want?" Sam pressed, his feet padding on the carpet towards Dean.

"He's got a hunt," there was no point avoiding the question, Sam could easily call Singer and get the information.

"Did you tell him?"

Dean shook his head.

"Did you tell him we're tired up with something?" Sam tired standing over Dean.

"No."

"Then what did you tell him?" his brother demanded.

Dean stretched out on his bed moving away from Sam, "I asked where he was hold up."

"Dean, we can't leave until the end of the week," Sam said with a sigh, stepping away from the bed.

"Any doctor can tell me I'm blind, hell I'll know before they do." Dean had never liked the idea of sitting in one place for too long and that was with all his senses intact. He might not be able to hunt—and even that was something he really wasn't letting himself consider—but driving around in the Impala was better than nothing.

His brother sighed in unmistakable frustration, the plastic bag crinkling again, "If you're so convinced its permanent why didn't you just tell him?"

Dean drew in a deep breath, "Did you buy me a coffee?" he asked completely changing the subject for the better he thought. He'd been too distracted when Sam had first returned to notice the strong aroma, but now it was just about overpowering him.

"That's hardly what you need right now," Sam commented and Dean could tell by the tone of his brother's voice that he wasn't ready to let the conversation drop. "How's your head?"

"Coffee," Dean reached out a demanding hand. His head pounded harder with the sudden movement but he'd been doing a fine job of ignoring it up too now, he could easily push it away. He heard Sam move towards him before he felt the hot cup press against his palm.

"Careful," Sam warned, "It's hot."

"Dude, I was drinking this stuff when you were in diapers," Dean scoffed, taking his first fortifying sip.

"Right Dean," his brother said with a condescending sigh. There was a brief moment of silence between them one Dean didn't take the time to savor. "So, when did you tell Bobby we're going to meet him?" Sam asked pointedly.

Dean took another drink from his coffee, keeping his head down, "I didn't," he replied, "Probably thinks we'll be heading out today."

He could feel Sam's eyes watching him intently, like pressure boring in on the side of his head. "We can't do that Dean," Sam's voice was close, Dean was positive his brother was sitting across from him.

"You think I can just sit around this motel room for a week?!" he threw back.

"What will you do when we get there?" Sam asked.

Dean shook his head, that wasn't the point. Sure there was no more to do in Gardiner than there was here, but it was the moving that was important. Dean needed the road, needed that freedom.

"Dean…" Sam said slowly his hand brushing against Dean's arm. The older Winchester pulled away from the contact, while reaching for the night table to place his coffee on.

"Damnit!" he swore as the hot coffee spilled over his hand. He'd been positive that he'd found the table, that the cup was safely on it.

Sam's hands brushed against him again, and Dean was sure his brother had said something but he wasn't paying attention. Humiliation overwhelmed him, as he stood up moving for the bathroom. With little difficulty Dean turned on the water and slid his burned hand beneath the tap. It wasn't long before Sam was at the door watching him, his silence only adding to Dean's frustration. He felt like he was being judged, and the verdict was; he was useless.

"We can go to meet Bobby," Sam conceded.

Dean didn't say a word he knew there was a 'but' coming.

"But you need to let me help you." Dean spun on his brother, wishing his could glare however he felt the message got across. "Swallow that damn pride of yours, I know part of you wants to, hence the gun on your bed…"

"I don't need you hovering over me every second," Dean spat.

"So you want me to let you walk into walls, get lost outside?" Sam asked tone rather harsh, as he didn't give an inch.

Dean's fist clenched, and he punched the first thing that wasn't near Sam. The impact was sharp, glass breaking and falling onto the counter below. "I just want to see!" he seethed, resting both hands on the counter as he hung his head.

Thanks for Reading

Morganeth Taren'drel


	5. Through the Darkness 5

**AN**: Sorry it took me a while to get this chapter out. I wasn't sure for a while how I wanted it to go, and even as I was writing it tonight I changed my mind and went back to add something, which for me at least changed the point of the chapter. I hope you enjoy!

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural

**Through the Darkness 5**

Dean's dream slowly shifted, the beautiful brunette dancing seductively in front of him, opened her mouth to speak and Sam's voice came out. He jerked in surprise, cocking his head to the side as she smiled at him, and spoke again. It was definitely Sam's voice but the words didn't make any sense. Dean pulled a hand down his face, and shook his head, opening his eyes he only saw blackness.

"He still wants to come Bobby," Sam's voice spoke through the darkness, sounding muffled but each word registered to Dean's tired brain.

He realized slowly that he was no longer sitting, but was actually lying down in his motel bed. Trying to blink his eyes without thought, reality came crashing in when Dean realized that he couldn't open his eyes. Dean bit back on a groan as he rolled over on the hard mattress wishing he could just fall back asleep and not have to deal with another endless day of nothing. Seconds passed by like hours, and nothing could distract him long enough to make the time pass faster.

His brain kept torturing him with thoughts of what he wanted to do, but couldn't because his sight had been taken from him. Nearly any other sense would have been better to loose, at least then he could have handled himself, passed the time, and not be utterly useless.

Dean clenched the sheets on either side of his pillow feeling the spike of pain shoot up his hand. It was a satisfying feeling, as the pain burned at his frustration, it wouldn't actually help but at the moment it felt like it was.

"Alright," Sam said and it sounded like he was sitting at the foot of Dean's bed, "We'll see you there."

There was silence in the motel room, before Sam sighed his cellphone dropping down on the room's small table, "You awake?" he asked.

"Thankfully," he muttered dryly, rolling onto his back.

"Bad dream?"

Dean shuttered, "Dancer had your voice."

Sam laughed, and it surprised Dean how good it felt to hear, "My apologies," was his sarcastic reply.

"Yeah, yeah" Dean grumbled slowly sitting up, "That was Bobby?"

"I told him we'd be coming to meet in Gardiner," Sam breathed and Dean heard him get to his feet and begin moving around the room. "I figure you'll be easier to deal with in the Impala."

Dean scrubbed his left hand through his short hair wincing when he hit the line of stitches, "I wouldn't count of it," he warned. Dean thought being on the move might help, listening to the sound of the Impala; but he still couldn't shake the feeling that the blindness was permanent.

"Can I take a look at you're hand?" Sam asked easing down on the bed across from him.

"Didn't you do a good job last night?" his brother had taken care of the gashes without a word. Whether Sam understood or just didn't want to make things worse by voicing his disapproval Dean didn't know. He'd just been grateful he hadn't had to make another visit to the hospital.

"You hardly let me clean it last night Dean," Sam countered, "I thought the larger gash could use a couple of stitches."

Dean stretched out his hand towards his brother's voice, "Joy," he breathed sarcastically. He felt Sam cut away the layers of gauze, and the blood seal break he kept his hand steady despite the pain.

"C'mon over to the table," Sam got to his feet drawing Dean along with him. He reached out with his left hand for the chair not two steps away from the end of the bed, and lowered himself down. "How's you're head?" his brother asked and Dean listened to the sounds of Sam pulling out supplies from their first aid kit.

"It's alright," he muttered, truth be told it still ached along the line of stitches, but nothing he hadn't dealt with before.

"Here," Sam took hold of Dean's left hand and dropped a small pill into his palm.

"I said I was fine," Dean repeated.

A sterile packet ripped opened, "It was a rhetorical question. There's a bottle of water by your elbow," he informed.

Dean debated for a moment, but decided to down the pill anyways; at the very least it might let him sleep through some of the day. "What time is it?"

"Just going on ten," he sounded distracted, and as Sam's fingers took firm hold of the skin on his hand he knew why. The needle pierced his skin, causing the muscles in his hand and forearm to spasm, but he managed to keep himself still as Sam worked. "Can I suggest next time you punch the wall?"

"Would have," Dean growled, "If I wasn't blind."

An awkward silence stretched between them as Sam finished his work and began cleaning up. He carefully re-wrapped Dean's hand weaving the gauze between his fingers before securing it in place around his wrist. "Will you have something for breakfast?" Sam finally asked when he'd finished.

"Sure," Dean shrugged shifting back to the end of his bed in search of his duffel. His hand met the rough material before he thought it should, and Dean bit down on a sigh yanking the bag from his brother's hand.

Dean got dressed as fast as he could, not wanting to give Sam an excuse to try and help him. But it was made a little difficult by his now tightly bound hand.

His skin crawled with the sense of Sam watching him, it got him wondering if there was a reason, or was he imagining it? He didn't want to say anything, to draw attention his paranoia.

Before long they were both ready to go. Dean felt more confident walking across the motel room floor now that he had his steel toe boots on, but he knew Sam was at his side ready to reach out and stop him at any moment. He didn't want to ask for Sam to guild him, and at the same time he didn't want to trip up or walk into anything. So when Sam's hand touched on the middle of his back to direct him, Dean didn't shrug it away though it was an effort.

Opening the Impala's door Dean listened to familiar creek of the hinge before sliding onto the bench seat. Sam tossed their bags into the truck before opening the driver's side door, a moment later the engine purred to life. Dean found himself turning towards the window despite the fact that he couldn't see. It bothered him that he couldn't even tell what the weather was like.

"What would you like?" Sam asked as the Impala slowed turning into what Dean could only assume was a drive through.

He shrugged, "Whatever."

Dean hardly paid any attention to what Sam was ordering; his attention had focused in on the sound of the Impala's engine, on the feel of each valve vibrating the chaise.

Thanks for Reading

Morganeth Taren'drel


	6. Through the Darkness 6

**AN**: It's been a while since I've posted on this story. I've tried working on this chapter for a while now, but although the ideas were all there getting them to come out smoothly was something of a problem for me. But it's done now, and I hope you enjoy!

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural

**Through the Darkness 6**

Dean slouched in the passenger's seat of his car, head resting on the back of the bench rocking slightly with the rough surface of the country road. He'd turned the radio on as soon as Sam had finished his breakfast, knowing the relative silence would just be too tempting for Sam to ignore. He didn't feel like talking right now, especially about what had happened yesterday, or what could happen at the end of the week.

For the moment he was just glad to be in his car, even though he couldn't drive her, he was there, they were moving, and most important he wasn't just sitting in a motel room. There wasn't much for him to do here either, but Dean enjoyed the sound of the engine the feel of the suspension as they hit small bumps in the road. He could almost forget for a moment that he was blind, until that was he wanted to know where they were, or how much further.

"Where are we?" he asked not bothering to raise his head.

There was a pause, "About five miles further than when you last asked," Sam replied with a drawn out sigh.

Dean just smirked and tuned his focus back on the music roaring through the Impala. He could almost feel himself lulling into a near state of sleep, when he suddenly heard a noise; or more to the point lack there of.

Sitting forward Dean reached for the volume controls on the radio and shut it off.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked, "I thought you loved that song."

"Shh!" Dean listened again, "There's a miss in the engine."

Sam was quiet for a moment, "I don't hear anything."

"I'm not surprised," Dean scoffed, "You didn't hear the fan belt squeak last month." He shifted in his seat feeling more frustrated now that he couldn't see, "Pull over."

"What now?" his brother sounded incredulous.

"Yeah why?"

"Dude we're in the middle of nowhere."

Dean turned his head towards his brother, "So? I've got everything you'll need right here." He always made sure to have at least one extra sparkplug in the Impala at all times.

"Me?" Sam sounds more than a little surprised.

"What, you think I can do it?" he demanded back. Dean might well have been able to handle the problem himself, if it weren't for his tightly bound hand.

"Can't this wait?" his brother tried.

"Dude, were fixing it now," Dean told his brother firmly, the miss in the engine was all he could hear, and it was driving him insane.

The drove straight for a few more seconds, and Dean was beginning to believe he was going to have to yank the steering wheel or something to get his brother to listen. But a moment later and he felt the Impala cruse towards the edge of the road, gravel kicking up under the tires.

"You do Realize I have no idea what I'm doing," Sam pointed out shifting the Impala into park.

Dean heard the key rattle, "Leave her on," he instructed quickly.

"Why?" his brother asked with a sigh.

"It's the easiest way to find the dead plug," he explained, "In the trunk there's a black tool box, there's a pair of insolated pliers in there."

Sam sighed again, but the trunk popped open a second later and Sammy was getting out of the car. Dean slid across the seat reaching down near the steering column for the lever that would pop the hood. Pulling it free Dean climbed out of the driver's side door hearing Sam come up beside him.

"Got the pliers?"

"And a new spark plug," he replied, still not sounding thrilled about the idea.

"Good," Dean stepped around the Impala and raised the hood, finding the support bar without trouble. He wanted to do this all himself, working around the Impala Dean was realizing he didn't need his sight. She'd been his baby for so long he knew were everything was, it was nice—at least in this one thing—not to feel helpless.

"Alright, so now what?"

"Do you see the wires leading away from the top of the engine block?"

"Yeah," Sam answered a second later.

"Those lead to the spark plugs, use the pliers to remove each plug one at a time," he instructed.

"And what will that prove?"

Dean sighed, wishing he could really just do this himself, "If the plug is good, the engine will sound worse. When you find the bad one I won't hear a change."

It only took three tries for Sam to find the bad plug, or more to the point for Dean to hear it. He shook his head pointed in what he was sure was the general direction of his brother, "You seriously can't hear the difference?" he as incredulously, the engine might as well have been sending of flares, there was no way Dean could miss it.

"I never claimed to be a car guy," Sam pointed out more than a little grumpy.

"You know there's a reason why I stressed insolated pliers," Dean returned in his own defense, trying his hardest not to start laughing again, at the memory of the sound Sammy had made when he'd accidentally touched one of the plugs.

"Maybe this was a good idea after all," Sam muttered to himself, the Impala's engine now running smoothly.

"What?" he asked, not following what lead to the comment.

Sammy dropped the hood back into place, "You haven't been this relaxed since the accident," he said bluntly.

Dean felt the humor drain from him, but he knew it was true. In moments like these he could almost let himself forget that he was blind. He may not ever be able to drive the Impala again, but it was something of a reassuring thought that he could still take care of her. It wouldn't be near enough, but it was something for the moment.

Thanks for Reading!

Morganeth Taren'drel


	7. Through the Darkness 7

**Through the Darkness**

**AN**: This chapter felt very daunting for me, since I've written 6 chapters and I had no idea how much time had passed. Which it a rather important thing to know since in one weeks time Dean finds out whether he's blind or not. After a quick re-read I realized only 3 days have passed so far, I also needed to know how long it would take to get from New York to Gardiner in Montana. Got that information, so now I'm ready to write this next chapter for you, I hope you enjoy!

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural

**Chapter 7**

"We'll be there in twenty Bobby," Sam's voice broke through the lifting fog of sleep. And Dean shifted on the bench seat, "Sorry didn't mean to wake you."

"S'okay," he muttered mouth dry, "How long you been driving?" Dean fumbled around on the seat between them searching for the bottle of water he knew was there.

"Just about twenty-two hours," Sam told him, his brother's hand brushed against Dean's and a second later a bottle of water was pressed against his palm.

He'd lashed out at his brother before for being so 'helpful', but he just didn't feel like it at the moment. Might have been that travel, not staying in one place waiting had eased some of his tension, though Dean was more likely to blame it on having just woken up. "How're you doing?"

"I'm really looking forward to getting out of the car," his brother replied adamantly.

Some of the frustration returned to Dean, the drive would have gone a lot better if he'd been able to take over for his brother. It'd be two more days before he'd even find out if the blindness was permanent or not. It was hard not to think about it, not to try and prepare himself for the worst, though he was pretty well convinced on that subject.

"How're you doing?" Sam turned the question back on Dean.

"I hope that was a rhetorical question," was all Dean was willing to say.

Sam sighed, "Sure…"

Dean felt the Impala slowing down, shaving off highway speed as they entered the town of Gardiner. He hadn't really let himself considered what they'd do for the next two days, or more to the point what he'd be left doing. Sam and Bobby could research till their hearts content, but there was no way he'd let them go off and hunt vamps on their own. Didn't matter that Bobby and Sam could take care of it themselves, he wouldn't relax unless he was there. Of course this left more than enough room for the question of '_What good would you be?_' he didn't want to answer it.

Sam broke the silence in the car, "You know I'm sure the hunt can wait for two days."

He hated how intuitive his brother could be, though he had to admit it probably wasn't all that hard to guess right now. "And if two days turns into a lifetime?"

"You always are a bright ray of hope," Sam returned sarcastically, "You know that right?"

"Always smiling Sammy," he said dryly, feeling the Impala come to a stop, "We here?"

"It's Sam, and yes," his brother said shutting off the Impala and opening his door immediately.

Dean did the same climbing out of his car only to feel the instant need to stretch out his back. "It's good to see you boys," Bobby's voice cut through the buzz of the street around him. His hand came to rest on Dean's shoulder, giving it a strong squeeze, "This way," he said guiding Dean towards the motel room. It was a little easier to take this sort of fussing from Bobby that Sam but only a little.

"Curb," he informed, and Dean bit down on a sigh, hearing Sam pop the trunk of the Impala behind them. "Have you been as much of an ass as Sammy says?" he asked making not effort to keep his voice down.

"Depends on how he put it," Dean replied feeling the door frame as he walked into the room, Bobby had rented.

"He told me about your hand," Bobby returned voice taking on that firm quality when he was about to berate them for doing something stupid.

Dean shook his head, "Loose your sight, and see how well you take it," he retorted, shrugging out from under Bobby's hand feeling out with his calf for either the nearest bed or chair. What he found was a chair; he made sure it was facing the way he pictured in his head before taking a seat.

The door to the room shut, as Sam came in, "I can see you've already got most of your research done," his brother said the sound of their duffels dropping punctuating his sentence.

Dean could only imagine the paperwork around the room maps of Yellowstone pinned to the walls portions highlighted or crossed off. "I'm narrowing down the search," the older hunter confirmed. "You look like hell Sam, take a break, get some sleep," Bobby suggested, his voice sounding like it was coming from across the room.

"No, I'm alright," Sam tired.

He heard the floor creek as Bobby turned, "We're not getting anything done today," he told the younger hunter flatly.

"Fine," his brother conceded, the springs in one of the mattresses compressing as Sam took a seat. "Don't let me sleep past four," he asked shoes being kicked off as he spoke.

For several minutes nothing was said, Dean rested his hands on the table feeling several pieces of paper spread out before him. The frig door opened, and Dean heard what distinctly sounded like clinking beer bottles. Bobby popped both caps before coming over to the table, "Looks like you could use it."

Dean held out his hand allowing Bobby to place the cold bottle against his palm, and he noticed that the older hunter didn't let go until Dean had a firm grip on it. He took a long appreciative swig of the icy brew and leaned back in his chair. Bobby lowered himself down onto the chair across the table.

"You know you can't hold off the hunt forever," he blurted out before his brain had even registered the words.

"Two days isn't forever," Bobby returned calmly.

Dean shook his head, "And if people get hurt in that time?" he'd feel responsible, and he already had more than enough blood on his hands.

Bobby gave a long drawn out sigh, "You're confusing even to yourself," he stated bluntly.

"Wha…" Dean started to ask when Bobby continued.

"You wouldn't stay here if we left," his friend stated, "And you sure as hell know you can't go."

Both sides of the arguments were out there now, on the table between them they could travel in an endless circle. He sighed in frustration, not wanting to discuss this right now, or ever for that matter. But he'd stupidly brought it up; there was no taking it back now.

"Look I've got a contact in town, runs a small clinic," Bobby began, "I'll take you there first thing Tuesday morning."

It was some small comfort to know the man knew Bobby, and it wouldn't be a complete stranger, at least to one person in the room. "And if it's permanent?" he couldn't help but demand.

"That was the argument you got in with the mirror?" Bobby asked with a skeptical laugh.

Dean shook his head, before dropping it between his shoulders, "I won't live like this," he muttered not sure if Bobby would even hear, or if he wanted him to hear.

"You idiot," Bobby's hand cuffed him up side the head.

"Damnit Bobby!" Dean winced the painful throbbing in his temple returning along the line of stitches.

"What good is thinking like that?" his friend demanded.

Dean placed a hand gently against his head, "No point lying to myself."

"Is that what John would want?"

"Dad's not here!" Dean spat, he couldn't imagine what his dad would have done in this situation, whether he'd been the one blinded or if Dean still was.

"No," Bobby replied tone calm, "But Sammy is, after all the shit you've been through you'd end it?"

He could honestly say at the moment he wouldn't pull the trigger, but he couldn't imagine life without his sight or hunting. Dean took another long pull on his beer, refusing to answer.

"I don't think you're hunting's done," the older hunter attempted to assure.

"More of that one day at a time crap?" he asked resting his elbows back on the table so he could support his still throbbing head.

"That's what I kept telling your dad," was all Bobby said.

Thanks for Reading

Morganeth Taren'drel


	8. Through the Darkness 8

**Through the Darkness**

**AN**: I'm dedicating this final chapter to **Winter**! Thanks for encouraging me to finish this story! I'm sorry it took me so long to complete, the style I was writing in 1 scene = 1 chapter was holding be up for how I wanted to finish the story. And it was Winter who told me to just forget it and write! So I hope everyone enjoys!

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural

**Chapter 8**

Dean shifted uncomfortably on the lumpy motel room sofa; he'd angrily insisted that Sam take the second bed and had been relieved when Bobby backed him up. He'd wanted Sam to sleep, so that at least for a couple hours he wouldn't feel like Sam was worriedly watching him. Dean was doing enough worrying for the both of them.

He suppressed a frustrated sigh and rolled onto his back pulling one knee up only to hear the joint pop. He had no idea what time it was; though he was pretty sure they'd all turned in late. It felt like the entire night had passed and he hadn't slept a wink but without his vision or anything to gage the passage of time Dean knew it could just as easily been only an hour or two.

Unable to stay lying down any longer Dean pushed himself into a sitting position; propping elbows on knees Dean dropped his head into his hands. For a few minutes he listened to Bobby's snores and Sam's deep even breaths grateful to the fact that they both slept on undisturbed. He didn't want to face any questions or concerns just yet; above all Dean didn't want to admit just how nervous he was about the appointment tomorrow.

A week had passed altogether too fast and too slow at the exact same time. He was both desperate and terrified to get the answer. Which begged the question '_Why wait?_' why did a doctor have to be the one to tell him whether he was blind or not? He could easily just tear the bandages off right now; and discover for himself in the near privacy of this motel room that his days of hunting we over; that he'd no longer be able to protect Sammy like he'd promised his dad.

Dean scrubbed his right hand across the top of his short hair; the dry skin of his fingers caught against the gauze and he immediately pulled away.

His frustration surged and before Dean realized what he was doing both hands dug into the flimsy bandages. The muscles in his hands and arms corded ready for just the slightest pull to tear the gauze away. Dean told his arms to move but the limbs weren't listening. He sat completely frozen like that and heard the springs on the bed compress as Sam rolled over.

"Can't sleep?" his brother's sleepy voice asked and Dean silently prayed all Sam could see was his shadowed silhouette.

The index finger of his left hand found the edge of a piece of tape and began to pick at it but he got no further than pealing up a tiny edge. "What time is it?" he forced himself to ask hoping the roughness in his voice could be mistaken for sleep, rather than cold fear.

"Almost five," Sam answered and the bed springs creaked sharply as Sam shifted closer. "Did you get any sleep?" he asked and there was that concern Dean was getting so tired of hearing.

"Doesn't matter," he bit out, willing his hand to finish the job it started but that deep core of fear was paralyzing him completely.

"Do you want some breakfast or coffee?" Sam asked his voice sounding muffled for a minute, and Dean figured he was pulling on a shirt.

"You should go back to sleep," Dean replied instead forcing his hands to drop away from his head.

He thought he heard Sam chuckle softly. "This isn't really early for me," he said, and Dean could hear the smile in his brother's voice.

"Right," he muttered not bothering to try and keep the bitterness from his voice.

"Here," Sam's voice was suddenly right in front of him and Dean couldn't stop himself from jumping back. "Sorry," he said softly as he nudged something towards Dean's feet.

It only took Dean a second to realize they were his boots. "Where are we going?" he asked dryly, slipping his right foot into the waiting boot.

"To get you, me and Bobby some breakfast," Sam replied voice back over where his bed was.

"And I have to come why?" he asked even as his hands laced the boots.

The mattress creaked as Sam got to his feet again. "You want to stay here and sleep?" his brother asked innocently.

"Not particularly," he grumbled pushing himself up only to feel his shoulder bump against Sam.

"C'mon," Sam said leading the way from the couch to the motel room door.

Dean forced himself to step confidently; he was familiar enough with this room to know his path was clear. The early morning air was cold, and Dean found himself shivering as he felt his way down off the sidewalk to the Impala. He could sense Sam near him, making sure without interfering that Dean made it to the Impala.

Sliding onto the passenger's side of the bench Dean slouched down against the back rest and hugged his arms tightly against his chest. He realized he was feeling especially cold because his body was tired even if his mind refused to let him sleep.

The Impala's engine roared to life, and a moment later Dean felt something heavy drop across his body. He fingered the material recognizing it as Sam's coat. "Quit babying me!" he snarled bitterly but didn't move to push the welcomed warmth away.

Sam didn't bother apologizing as he drove away from the motel but he did choose to fill the silence with some music. It wasn't blaring the way Dean liked it, but he doubted he would have appreciated it much louder than it was.

Dean listened to the music, to the voice of the Impala the rumbled of the engine the sound of rubber against asphalt and found himself drifting. He floated from near sleep to consciousness a couple of times before finally turning his head towards Sam.

"Dude, how long does it take to find a McDonalds?" he mumbled forcing the words out despite a yawn.

"Shut up and go to sleep," was Sam's only reply.

---SPN---

"Dean?" a new voice greeted a second after he'd stepped inside the clinic. "I'm Dr. Ross," he introduced.

Dean extended his hand, allowing the Doctor to clasp it. He didn't feel much like talking at the moment, afraid his nerves would show clear though; though he suspected everyone knew how worried he was. They'd basically come here right after Dean woke to find himself in the Impala. He was more than a little embarrassed to find out Sam had driven him around for more than an hour, and stayed in the quietly idling car while Dean got some much needed rest.

"You must be his brother Sam," Ross continued not missing a beat.

"Yeah," Sam said only a little awkwardly, clearly just as nervous as Dean.

"Bobby told me all about what happened," the doctor continued leaving Dean to wonder just what Bobby had told the man. He wasn't about to assume that Ross knew anything about hunting but perhaps he was a doctor willing to asked a few less questions than most.

"Alright I'm sure the suspense is killing you, come right this way," he said taking a guiding hold of Dean's arm and the hunter had to fight his immediate reaction to pull his arm free.

Sam stepped up beside him, shoulders brushing against each other as a silent reassurance that he wasn't alone.

Dean allowed himself to be led down what he assumed was a nondescript hall in the doctor's clinic, until Ross slowed his pace and opened a door. Dean could picture the room without being able to see it; most exam rooms were pretty standard.

"You can take a seat right over here," he said, and Dean reached out his hand to feel the edge of the exam table.

Hopping up onto the table Dean waited, shoulders hunched not entirely sure what was going to happen next.

"Alright so this is pretty straight forward," Dr. Ross said sounding like he was standing right in front of Dean. "I've dimmed the lights in here, and I'm going to cut the bandage away okay?"

"Sure," Dean finally said not liking the sound of his voice.

No one spoke at the doctor cut the gauze and pealed away the bandaged that covered Dean's eyes. For several minutes Dean just sat there with his eyes closed. It felt like a repeat of that morning; this was it. There was nothing standing in the way of him finding out if the blindness was permanent and that scared him more than he'd ever openly admit.

With a deep breath Dean finally forced himself to open his eyes; just a fraction at first. He thought the darkness lightened a little and that was enough to encourage Dean. Staring down at his hands Dean opened his eyes a little wider. His vision was blurry eyes watering even at just the pale light shining down on them; but he could see!

Dean just sat there, staring at his hands wiggling his fingers to convince himself he was actually seeing them. Everything was fuzzy but it was all definitely there.

"Dean?" Sam spoke up hesitantly, clearly unable to wait with the silence any longer.

Raising his head, Dean opened green eyes just a little wider and looked directly at his little brother. He'd never been happier to see such relief play across Sam's face as he broke out in a huge smile.

"I can see!" he exclaimed his own relief washing over him in exhausting waves; his body finally realizing just how tired he actually was.

"You'll be light sensitive for a while," Dr. Ross said and Dean saw the man for the first time. He looked to be around Bobby's age and quite a bit shorter. "Let me take a look," he said taking an instrument from the wall.

Dean submitted to the exam without question or complaint; still far too thrilled that he could see at all to be bother by this strangers close proximity. Within fifteen minutes he'd been given a clean bill of health and they were on their way. Sam had produced a pair of sunglasses for him without being asked and Dean had gratefully slipped them on as they step outside.

The late morning sunlight was bright even behind the shades but Dean loved every second of it. He made his way to the Impala as though it had been years since he'd last seen her. He strode without thinking over to the driver's side and held out his hand towards Sam for the keys.

"I don't think that's such a good idea," Sam said hands hidden in his pockets.

"Dean how many fingers am I holding up?" Bobby asked from where he stood by his own car.

The older Winchester squinted at Singer willing the blur that was Bobby's hand to solidify into a clear number. "More than one, less than five?" he tried knowing he'd already lost the battle.

"Just be happy with watching the scenery go by," the mechanic told him gruffly.

"Fine," he sighed and made his way back over to the passenger's side. He looked at Sam as he brother slid in behind the wheel, "But I am definitely ready to hunt some vamps!"

Thanks for reading!

Morganeth Taren'drel


End file.
